After the Storm
by Random Guise
Summary: A one-shot that takes place after the 1983 movie "Brainstorm". Michael and Karen Brace have moved on from the nightmare of the misuse of their sensory headsets, but a ghost from the past pops up to complicate their lives. I don't own these characters but I do like a good set of headphones.


**A/N: This short follows up on the events of the movie "Brainstorm" (1983). All of the problems brought up in the movie just didn't vanish with the happy ending.**

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After the Storm

"You did NOT!"

"I did SO!" Michael and Karen Brace stood toe to toe, not in an argument of anger but one of incredulity. "See for yourself if you don't believe me." Michael looked at his watch and thought for a moment. "Unless the wind shifted it should be just over the back yard."

With a smirk that said "You're bluffing" Karen hurried to the sliding door that lead to the back yard. Stepping outside, she looked up into the North Carolina sky. She had to look a little to the west, but in bold letters a skywriter had written "MB + KB". Michael joined her outside, grinning from ear to ear as he hugged her from the side while they looked up.

"You were wrong - it's a little to the west, not overhead."

"Atmospheric science isn't exact, what can I say?"

"I think you already did" she said as she kissed him.

"I like the way you say it better" he said after they broke for air. "I wanted a heart, but they said it was too hard and a plus sign would be a lot easier." They made their way to a pair of lawn chairs and reclined, watching the writing as the wind and the setting sun played tricks on the message. They were still holding hands when the writing was completely distorted into just another painted cloud formation. "I don't know if I've ever looked at the sky for so long" he said as he looked over at his wife.

"I don't think you even knew the sky existed there for a while" she answered back. They had been young and in love, but over the years had drifted apart in estrangement as Michael became more engrossed in his work with Triad and Lillian Reynolds to develop a new communications device that was found to actually be able to record sensory experiences and replay them to anyone who had the proper equipment. Karen had been brought into the project as a designer for the headset, and during the process they discovered how much they meant to each other and reunited. The death of Lillian and the takeover of the project by the military for weaponized use including possible torture had forced them to sabotage the project to prevent its misuse.

One year later both now had a renewed appreciation of life and were enjoying it as much as each other. Michael toyed with the idea of the two designing houses now for a living, but it was such a personal thing he wasn't sure if his ideas would find a market despite Karen's assurances that they would. Even at the moment she was discussing an idea they had when a buzzer sounded by the back door.

"A visitor?" Michael asked.

"I doubt it's a malfunction, but you won't know unless you answer it" Karen pointed out.

The buzzer sounded again. "Persistent, whoever they are" he said as he made a big show of being trapped in the chair.

"Oh, get up you lazy clod" Karen said as she pushed him. Michael rose with a few muttered protests and entered the house again, with Karen trailing. They made their way to the front door and checked the monitor.

"It's Hal!" Michael exclaimed. Hal Abramson was a member of the team that developed the technology that so recently had consumed their lives. Hal and his wife Wendy had helped with the sabotage and all were on friendly terms with an open invitation to stop by any time; the odd thing was that he didn't call ahead this time. Michael went to the front door and opened it to greet his friend; what he didn't expect was to see Alex Terson standing beside Hal.

Hal immediately apologized. "I'm sorry Michael, I would never have done this but something important has come up and I think you should hear Alex out." Alex Terson had been the group's boss; the organizer that had helped assemble not only the personnel but also secured funding and kept them sequestered to avoid any interference from outside. He also had removed Michael from the project when he tried to experience a recording Lillian had made during her death from a heart attack, deeming it too dangerous and reckless a thing for Michael to attempt.

"I don't blame _you_, Hal" Michael said before turning to Alex. "On the other hand, I have _nothing_ to say to you" he directed to his former boss, his voice squeaking slightly as he got agitated.

"Good, because I'm not ready to listen to you yet until you've had a chance to hear what I have to say; after that it's all up to you" Alex said flatly. His tone was matter-of-fact, but his face and body language spoke more in a plea.

"Of course, come on in" Karen bid the two, not allowing animosity from the past to prevent any future interactions. The two visitors entered and were ushered to the living room, where everyone sat on a sofa and various chairs. Alex immediately stood up and paced, but said nothing for the moment.

"Alex has some important news, Michael" Hal went on. "He's asking for your help."

"My help? This I have to hear! Go ahead Alex, _knock my socks off_."

Alex winced; he had used the same phrase on the team before they presented him with their breakthrough and now it was being used to mock him. But such was his resolve that he plowed ahead, still pacing but spilling out his information as he did so. The voice remained calm, because that's how Alex did things.

"I'm not here to cover old ground. I didn't know anything about 'Project Brainstorm' and I had no idea just what the military was planning. I did remove you from the project, and I'd do it again if I thought you were endangering yourself. I did see to the destruction of the recordings and equipment from the project, and that's how I got canned from _my_ job. But I got approached this week by a member of the DEA, and after they briefed me I knew you were the person to be able to help. I still had contact with Hal, so don't blame him for me being here. We've got a problem."

"_You_ have a problem; I washed my hands of the whole thing, and I won't help in any efforts to resurrect the project or its technology" Michael stated flatly as he folded his arms in front of him.

"Believe me, I want it gone as badly as you do; if I had any idea where it would have led I would have disbanded Triad right after it started. But this doesn't have anything to do with bringing any of that stuff back; no, we have indications that some of it may still exist."

Despite himself, Michael asked "I thought you destroyed everything."

Alex sighed. "I thought so too, and I was as thorough as I could be. Everything in the factory was melted down, including the recordings. We smashed all the recorders and playback machines so that no one could use them again. We already know that no one may ever figure out how to duplicate one again, at least not in my lifetime. But something disturbing has come up."

He sat down and continued. "The DEA brought a disturbing report to me. A growing number of kids in the county are being diagnosed with addiction symptoms; their behavior and even physical characteristics mimic those of cocaine users with one exception; their blood and urine tests come back absolutely clean."

"Don't get me wrong Alex, kids mean a lot to me - it turned my world upside down when we almost lost my son Chris. But it still doesn't have anything to do with me."

"It actually does, Michael. These kids were particularly tight-lipped about what was going on - like a code of silence to protect their source or something. But we finally got one to crack after he came out of a stupor in Intensive Care. It's your machine."

"What?"

"That's what I thought too, but from the description it has to be. The kid described paying to put a special helmet on and listen to some taped music that put stuff in your head - taste, visions, smell and the whole thing. They pay to experience the effects of taking drugs without the actual dope. What would happen if you recorded one of your sessions while drunk or strung out? How would the user react?"

Michael stewed as he thought. Their device was able to reproduce all the sensations and experiences of the person that made the recording. Even feelings, to some degree, were transferred through the recordings to the individual that was the receiver of the playback. If a person put on the recording helmet and went on a binge it could be relived over and over again by anyone. Or multiple people. Or...

He interrupted his thoughts with a question. "Is someone making recordings and distributing them? You've got a potential epidemic on your hands."

Alex forced a weak smile. "It's not that bad - yet. We've managed to determine that it's the same recording over and over again. It must have been recorded at some point in the past, and a copy survived. That and the ability to play it somehow. But it's bad enough."

Hal interjected. "Michael, you and I both know from experience how addicting that thing can be; the yearning to experience the sensations again and again. It nearly killed both of us before we understood it; imagine someone who's just in it for the thrills and doesn't know or care about the danger."

Michael stood up and held out his hand while he thought out loud. "Give me a moment. The recordings we made were able to reproduce physiological changes in the body; I almost had a heart attack on Lillian's recording until I rewired the panel to knock out some of the feedback. You told me that it Killed Gordy when he tapped in without the protection. So if a kid played a recording of someone getting high, he _would_ get high and experience everything that went along with it. But no drug is actually present, so it won't show up...but there's the addiction. You're probably wiring the brain to want, to _need_ that high again. I don't know what would happen if you did it too many times...no, it couldn't be good. I don't know how it cou...it had to be Gordy. He made an unauthorized recording and never told us about it. Probably stashed a copy away, same like that sex tape he did for Hal. Yeah, it had to be...okay, so they have the tape and somehow a player survived, along with at least a headset; maybe one of the first generation models we stopped using when Karin designed the lighter ones. So then the..."

Michael stopped in realization that he was running along without paying attention to anyone around him. He self-consciously sat back in his chair. "You've got a problem, alright."

"_We've_ got a problem" Alex amended. "I need your expertise to stop this and get rid of the last of the equipment."

Michael threw up his hands. "I'm not a detective Alex; I have no idea where to even begin."

"I might" a voice called from behind and above. Michael turned around and saw his son Chris on the staircase listening in.

"Chris? What would you know about something like that?" Karen asked.

"I go to school. I listen. Don't worry Mom, I'm not getting anywhere near that thing again. But I've heard things..."

...

"Okay, as far as the cops here know it's just a regular drug bust" Alex told Michael as they strode toward the house. Both were dressed out like the other agents, with DEA vests and helmets. Michael carried a large toolbox with him, although it wasn't fully laden. "We're supposedly specialists looking for manufacturing equipment but I'm counting on you to find out how they've hidden the player."

"Right - destroy the player and the tapes are worthless."

They entered the house and quickly scanned the entryway. Cops and agents intermixed as they escorted away everyone to waiting vans. Michael could hear activity upstairs as the last few rooms were being cleared. "Is there a basement?" he asked.

"No basement."

"Then it's here or on the second floor. It might be hidden in a cabinet or a closet; we know that a person has to get near it to use it AND it needs electricity."

"Do you want the power cut first?"

"No! It might give us a clue where it is. Anything can help."

The two men started their search through the rooms, staying together in case one saw something that the other didn't. The ground floor was a mess with papers, empty food containers and even clothes strung about although it was hard to tell if that was the condition of the place before the raid. After searching through the rooms on the ground floor, they climbed the stairs to the second floor and searched there. These rooms were vastly different, being clean and neat and well appointed.

"Public down there, private up here" Alex noted out loud.

Their search turned up nothing though, and they returned downstairs. Alex was asked by an agent if they had found anything and he shook his head.

Michael looked around the biggest room; the various items indicated it was a party room of some sort. They had taken a look at the big screen television, the stereo, and refrigerator full of beer and several cabinets without success. Michael kicked a half-eaten hamburger to one side and walked over to a coffee table with a cabinet. Smiling, he opened the cabinet only to find video game cartridges for a game system hooked up to a television. Nothing.

Alex joined him. "Anything?" he asked.

"No," Michael replied "but it has to be here. It HAS to be. Maybe a shed out back?"

"Nothing but lawn. They sure kept the outside up nicely, it matches the upper floor."

"Yeah. I'm going to check upstairs again." Michael started to walk to the stairway and stopped. Off to one side was a small room with a pinball machine and an arcade video game. He walked toward the room and entered, and stood staring at the sit-down cabinet game. Something wasn't right, but he couldn't put his finger on it. When it hit him he laughed.

"What?" Alex asked.

"Look at the artwork on the cabinet." It was a game that was fairly current, and had cartoon depictions of the surface of the moon along with some sort of vehicle. The player sat down in a seat and operated a joystick and fire buttons. The screen was showing a demo of the game.

"So?"

"Two things - do you realize that most of the space inside these cabinets is empty? They just make them bigger so players can fit in them better. We took one apart at the institute just to see how the controls worked."

"So that was you. Okay, they might be hiding something in it. What's the other thing?"

"Look at the name."

Alex looked at the name plate of the cabinet. Someone had subtly changed the name from "Moon Patrol" to "Mood Patrol" with a crude reworking of the 'n' on the name. "You've got the toolbox; go for it while I stand guard out here. I'll even let you use the hammer; it's the least I can do."

"Gladly" Michael said as he opened his toolbox and put on a pair of safety glasses.

The End

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**A/N: Oh, I could have written something hopeful and light about Michael's experiences near the end of Lillian's recording as she seemed to be poised to enter some type of heaven, but the reality is that the characters were back on Earth and there are always loose ends that seem to hang around.**

**The character of Alex Terson got kind of bum deal; he wanted to help the team achieve success, but at the same time he had to deal with the government and his funding sources. This is the beginning of reconciliation between he and Michael. **


End file.
